


Five Moments

by Lost_In_Time



Category: 19th Century CE France RPF, 19th Century CE RPF, Napoleonic Era RPF, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-29
Updated: 2020-09-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:41:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26716942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lost_In_Time/pseuds/Lost_In_Time
Summary: It was a dangerous game they played, but an addicting one too, and they couldn't stop. Maybe it wasn't the game that was addictive so much as each other.
Relationships: Aleksander I Pavlovich | Alexander I of Russia/Napoléon I de France | Napoléon Bonaparte
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Five Moments

Napoleon wanted to open his eyes, but he couldn't. He wanted to lean back and gaze deep into the eyes of the man whose lips had just brushed his own.

He felt fingers caressing his cheek, and hot breath against his lips -- followed by another soft kiss. He wrapped his arms around the other man, pulling him in closer. 

"You can open your eyes." There was a hint of laughter in the voice. 

Napoleon shook his head. "No… When I open my eyes the illusion will be gone, Alexander." 

"'Poleon what do you mean?" 

"It's like a dream." He opened his eyes, staring deep into Alexander's. "As soon as you open your eyes you remember the real world." 

Alexander frowned, stepping back. "Don't say that." But deep down he knew that it was true. 

Napoleon smiled a little, sadly. He had opened his eyes, after all. 

*

"I thought you wouldn't come." Napoleon stood up from his desk and shut the door behind Alexander, turning the bolt. 

The Russian smiled. "Do you never trust anyone?" 

Napoleon stared at him for a moment without answering. "Sometimes." He answered without answering. Then he drew closer, putting a hand on Alexander's arm. 

His smile hadn't faded. "You sound like Talleyrand." 

Napoleon huffed. "Don't mention that bastard’s name now." Taking Alexander's face in his hands, he kissed him softly, as if to erase the other man's name off his lips. 

Alexander leaned into him, gently biting his lower lip. 

Napoleon almost gasped, breaking the kiss. "I see." His voice was low and gravelly. He dove in for another kiss, pressing Alexander back against the wall. 

They were both breathing heavily, the kiss hard and passionate. 

It was just past midnight. 

*

"Why?" 

"I don't know." 

They could hear each other's voices in their letters. Alexander bent over Napoleon's awful scrawl -- Napoleon shutting the door to his study to carefully read Alexander's, tossing the paper into the fire afterwards, watching it burn. 

They almost never dared to confess. To really confess, to say what they wanted most of all to say. 

"I miss you." Too forward. "I miss our conversations." Too intimate? "I regret…" 

Napoleon set down his quill, cradling his head in his hands. He sighed deeply, suddenly seeming very old and tired. 

Far away in Moscow Alexander stared down at a blank piece of paper. Where to begin? Scoffing at his own foolishness, he wrote without stopping to let himself think about the words.   
It wasn't even a letter really, just a few lines -- uneven and written in haste. There was emotion in them. 

When Napoleon read it all the color drained from his face, and he slumped back in his chair. With shaking hands he reached out to toss it in the flames, then stopped. He read it again, whispering some of it aloud to himself. "It is midnight in Moscow, and I want nothing more than to kiss you--" a large ink blot, "and afterwards press my forehead to yours, and stay that way for a long time…" 

Napoleon bowed his head. 

It was midnight in Moscow.

*

It was a dangerous game they played, but an addicting one too, and they couldn't stop. Maybe it wasn't the game that was addictive so much as each other. 

Alexander wrapped an arm around Napoleon's shoulders as they walked the winding forest path. "It's cold today." He observed, rather uselessly. 

Napoleon raised his eyebrows. "Aren't you meant to be used to cold weather?" There was a teasing edge to his tone. 

Alexander blinked, shrugged, laughed. "Well I'm not immune." 

Napoleon nodded, smiling. He would have been cold except for the warmth of the man beside him. 

Alexander stopped walking, which forced Napoleon to do the same. "Napoleon," he began, meeting his eyes, "can I kiss you?" 

Napoleon laughed incredulously. "What kind of question is that?" Then he noticed Alexander's hurt expression and frowned. "You don't have to ask."

"I know." He tilted his head slightly to one side, considering. "I wanted to see what you'd say." 

Napoleon raised his eyebrows. "What, in case I said no?" He sounded incredulous, and a little impatient, as if he refused to believe that a man as powerful as Alexander would dare show weakness. 

The Russian's eyes hardened. "Nevermind." He kept walking, but withdrew his arm from around Napoleon's shoulders. 

Napoleon kept pace with him, clasping his hands behind his back. "Alexander," he said at last, "stop walking for a moment." 

Grudgingly, the other man obeyed. 

"I hope you know I don't mean what I say when I'm angry." 

Alexander laughed, then pulled Napoleon into a kiss. His lips were warm; chapped but warm in the crisp, cold air. Napoleon leaned into it, nipping at Alexander's lower lip. When the kiss broke they looked at each other for a moment, breathing unsteadily.

Napoleon spoke first, and his voice was hoarse. "You're a cruel man, Alexander." His eyes sparkled.

*

“You’re frowning.” Alexander broke the kiss. 

Napoleon shrugged, stepping back and taking both of Alexander’s hands in his own. “My mind is elsewhere tonight.” 

“I understand.” Alexander nodded, glancing up at the night sky. 

“But, my dear Alexander,” Napoleon smiled, “the rest of me is here with you.” 

Alexander raised his eyebrows, but Napoleon just pressed his hands gently.

“Rest assured, our time is not yet ended.” 

-


End file.
